I’m gonna have to drag all this out of myself but it will be worth it.

Our tale begins earlier this week when the sensor for my glucometer shut down because it had done its ten day tour of duty and wanted to go home to its family and that childhood sweetheart that’s been patiently waiting for it to return.

So I called the pharmacy and ordered more sensors, plus a couple of drugs I was low on. Julian went and picked it all up for me (thanks Julian!) and last night I was all ready to put on a new sensor and get things rolling again.

But then came the heart-stopping moment of horrifying clarity when I realized that I ha thrown the previous sensor away WITHOUT detaching and keeping the transmitter.

An of course, not only was said sensor now gone for good, but quite mysteriously the entire wastepaper basket I threw it out in was gone too.

Still don’t know WTF is up with that, to be honest.

And at this point I decided that there was no point trying to fight the tidal wave of self-recrimination and self-loathing that this realization unleashed and chose instead to just let it run its course and save my energy for picking up the pieces when it was done.

Quite mature and wise of me, I think.

And it paid off, because once the waters receded I was able to remember that I had another transmitter on my desk somewhere.

So I hunted it up and clicked it in place and got the sensor warming up.

Only to have it fail during the warming up sequence. Damn.

But I had two more sensors (they come three to a box) so I was not too worried.

The other two failed in the exact same way at the exact same point of warming up.

Because life hates me. And that’s so unfair when I am such a nice dude!

So now I have zero working sensors. I went on the Dexcom website to submit a tech support ticket for the issue.

The form crashed, and told me to call their hotline.

So now I have to work up the nerve to call them.

Then today, I called a cab to take me to Wound Care for my appointment at 11:30 am, then before it arrived I got a phone call from Wound Care^[1] telling me I had missed my appointment at 11 am.

Waddy fug? I’m sure my schedule said 11:30 am. But of course, I can’t find the schedule to verify this.

So for all I know, I just misread it.

So then I had to call and cancel the cab. Which was not easy for me.

All in all, the fuckery is running strong and thick right now. It’s getting to the point where I am afraid to masturbate because like, what if I crash my dick?

More after the break.

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This is not enough

But I guess we already knew that.

After some failed attempts at fuckery by the universe, I did end up having therapy today.

We talked about my deep freeze of a childhood. It’s a subject that I am compelled to return to over and over again because I can’t seem to truly wrap my head around how very very wrong it was.

No, that’s not quite it. What I mean is… there is all this ice and snow and midnight tundra in me from all those years of having absolutely nobody in my life I could trust, talk to, or turn to at all.

I was a robot that went to school. I had no friends, my family preferred to forget I existed, and my teachers resented me and were frustrated by me.

Not my fault they didn’t know how to handle someone like me. I was just being myself.

Not my fault that I was smarter than them.

Anyhow. that kind of emotionally starved childhood leaves a mark, yo. I feel like it cuts into me like a long dark groove cut by a chisel into a block of wood on a lathe. It’s impossible to know how deep the damage goes both because I have no basis for comparison – it’s always been like that – and because the coldness of it all makes me too numb to feel the damage at all.

Not a coincidence.

So when I say I can’t wrap my head around the wrongness of it all, what I am really saying is that the amount of damage caused by such a rotten childhood is more than my mind can comprehend.

And it makes my internal world a very cold place. Doc Costin told me I need to learn to give myself the warmth and acceptance I never got as a child, but I don’t know where I am supposed to draw that from.

I have no experience of it. I don’t know what it is like to feel loved and accepted and wanted and worth something. Therefore I have no memories to draw upon, no internal source of warmth to apply to the rest of me to thaw me out.

No inspiration, no close warm personal relationships. no memories of a happier time, and absolutely no faith to provide the emotional inputs I need.

So I don’t know where this loving warmth is supposed to come from. I lack the physical and emotional vitality to generate it on my own.

It all has to come from somewhere, and there is nowhere in me that can do it. I need some kind of external source of loving energy and I don’t know how to find it.

But I am building up my ego and striving to love and forgive myself and hammering away at that cage of ice around my heart.

Maybe one day I will finally feel the sun and know what it is to be truly alive.

I will talk to you nice people tomorrow.